Out of the Dark
by Dasselrond
Summary: Kate Todd is ambushed by gun-runners while helping out another NCIS team. CHAPTER FIVE: NEW! Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for all the reviews so far.
1. Chapter 1

Neither NCIS nor its characters belong to me, though I wish they did. I am merely playing in the world wonderfully created by others.

Positive feedback is appreciated. It's been awhile since I have stretched my fan fiction legs, and this is my first go 'round with Gibbs and company, so my apologies if they sound at all "out of character". I am my own beta, so all mistakes are purely my own.

Out of the Dark

Stepping out of the dark, government-issue sedan, NCIS special agent Caitlin Todd surveyed the Arlington warehouse that had once the central hub of a weapons-smuggling operation run by two chief petty officers off the USS Carl Vinson. Both men were now in custody, but the search for the local middlemen was ongoing. The petty officers were keeping strangely silent on their colleagues' whereabouts.

"Thanks again for coming, Kate," said special agent James Carlson as he pulled his evidence kit from the trunk. "It's your weekend off, and I know you wanted to go to the game."

"It's not like Simons knew her mother would have a massive heart-attack," Kate shrugged. She tugged on the brim of her black ball cap with the NCIS logo emblazoned on the front before slinging her pack over her shoulder. "Gibbs understands. I told him I'd meet them for lunch after they've kicked the FBI's ass all over the court."

"DiNozzo'll pout," Gibbs had told her over the phone earlier that morning when she called him to let him know she'd miss at least part of the intramural final to help out Carlson's team in Simons' stead.

"God, I've heard more about Ohio State and his spectacular free-throws in the last three days than I'll need to hear about in a lifetime. I want to be there, Gibbs, you know that," she had said, "but Jim's down a team-member, and …"

" … maybe a fresh pair of eyes'll help." It wasn't a question.

"Something like that."

In her mind's eye, she saw Gibbs nod in understanding. "Lunch is at Pasquini's after. Join us for pizza and beer," he said. She could hear the smile in her boss's voice. "The FBI will be footing the bill."

"The sweetest-tasting beer there is. I'll be there," she agreed and started to switch off the cell when his deep voice pulled her back again.

"And Kate –"

"Yes?"

He paused. "Be careful."

She smiled. "I will. See you for beer, Gibbs."

"I'm sure we'll have you out of here with plenty of time left to get to the game," said Caroline Salaz as she cut through the crime scene seal on the warehouse door and Agent Pike slid the heavy door open.

Kate and Carlson stepped into the darkened warehouse with Salaz and Pike following behind, their footsteps echoing around them. Water dripped from somewhere to her right. Though it was still early in the day, the windows high up on the warehouse wall, their panes dull with years of dirt, did little to illuminate the interior. As Kate's eyes adjusted to the dim light, she surveyed the scene. What few remaining weapons that had been left behind by the arms dealers when NCIS raided the warehouse had already been secured into evidence, but the pallets on which they had been stored were still scattered about.

Estimates indicated that between eight to nine hundred weapons had been stored here along with several hundred thousand rounds of ammunition. Grenades along with supplies that could be used to create IED's rounded out the cache – more than enough hardware to supply several home-grown and transplanted terrorist cells – and most of it still out there, somewhere. The petty officers had thought to supplement their government pensions by betraying their country and putting the lives of countless thousands in jeopardy. Their golden years would now be spent in maximum security at Fort Leavenworth.

"Kate, if you want to take the northeast quadrant of the warehouse, we'll split up the rest," said Carlson, indicating the area that had already been roped off.

"Will do," she said and headed in that general direction. "Any idea what I'm looking for?"

"Not a clue. We've been here twice this week already," Leon Pike said, raising his voice so that it would carry to her. "It's just that Jimmy thinks we're missing something that might lead us to rest of the smugglers."

"We _are_ missing something," Salaz agreed, her voice grave. It was imperative that they find the people actually selling the weapons. Too many lives would remain in danger until they were captured.

Kate slid her pack from off her shoulder and propped it up against the nearest pallet. Pulling a pair of latex gloves from its depths, she slid them over her hands and switched on the flashlight she took from a pocket on her utility vest. Carlson's team scattered to do the same, each selecting a separate quadrant of the warehouse to search. Kate was about to start her hunt when the light from the doorway was suddenly blocked.

At the sound of a sharp series of pops followed by a scream from Salaz who was closest to the door, Kate twisted to face the entrance where three men stood, their guns trained on the four NCIS agents. Kate had only enough time to pull her weapon from its holster as they continued to fire. Muzzle flashes brightened the soft light of the warehouse as Kate dove for cover, grunting in pain as she felt one of the bullets slam into her right thigh and another lodge itself in her shoulder. Her right arm hanging useless at her side, Kate fumbled for her weapon that had fallen to the cracked concrete floor. Gripping it awkwardly in her left, Kate propped her body against one of the pallets and returned fire. The small part of her mind that wasn't focused on shooting back noted that both Salaz and Carlson were down, and only she and Pike continued to fire back.

One of the gunmen pinned down by her fire turned her way and pulled the trigger of his assault rifle. The pallet in front of her exploded into a hail of wooden fragments. Pain exploded in her head, and her body slammed hard against the concrete floor beneath her. Injured leg twisted awkwardly beneath her crumpled body, Kate clutched weakly at her weapon. The gunfire stopped, and dimly she heard the squeal of rubber on pavement as the gunmen fled the scene.

Blood obscured her vision, but her ears were filled first with the sudden silence and then with the sounds of her dying colleagues.

Kate's last though before she let the darkness claim her was that Salaz had been right.

They'd definitely missed something.


	2. Chapter 2

Neither NCIS nor its characters belong to me. I am merely playing in the world wonderfully created by others.

Positive feedback is appreciated. It's been awhile since I have stretched my fan fiction legs, and this is my first go 'round with Gibbs and company, so my apologies if they sound at all "out of character".

Out of the Dark – Chapter Two

"Pass the ball, DiNozzo, or get the hell outta the game," demanded Leroy Jethro Gibbs of his senior agent. At the moment, Gibbs himself was unsuccessfully trying to get past Clint Moyer, the 6' 7" ringer the FBI had brought in from their Quantico training facility– no way was the kid a full field agent yet, he looked twelve – but that was no reason for DiNozzo not to pass the ball to McGee, Cha Arguello, or even Palmer for that matter, all of whom looked open from Gibbs' perspective. "Get that Buckeye power-forward ass of yours in gear!"

The NCIS/FBI Intramural Championship Basketball Game always brought out in droves agents from both agencies and their families. While the proceeds of the game went to a charity for fallen agents, the value of the bragging rights of the winning team were beyond measure, and Gibbs had no intention of letting NCIS be on the receiving end of those rights for another year.

"Workin' on it, Boss," shouted Tony over the din of the packed gym. Wiping the sweat from his brow with his forearm as he kept the ball away from FBI Agent Tkach, DiNozzo suddenly saw an opening as Tim McGee finally managed to break free of Angie Zerucha's coverage. With one quick bounce it was in the younger man's hands. To McGee's credit, he held onto the ball and all but sprinted to the hoop – thankfully remembering to dribble the ball along the way. The bottom of Zerucha's shoe caught on the wooden floor awkwardly, and she went down, giving Tim a clear path to the hoop.

In the stands, Ducky and Abby cheered their colleague. "Go, Timmy!" shouted Abby, her black pigtails bouncing as she jumped up and down at Ducky's side.

"Drive it, Probie!" shouted DiNozzo as he skirted around his blocker, running up the side of the court, ready to assist his friend if needed. Gibbs and Palmer did the same, but their efforts proved needless. With a smooth leap that he had never managed to perfect in practice, McGee slammed the ball into the hoop just as the horn sounded the end of the first half.

Gibbs slapped Tim on the back as the junior agent approached the bench, "Good job, McGee!" Gibbs didn't fail to notice the smile that spread across Tim's face at the unexpected compliment.

"Not bad, Probie," DiNozzo agreed, breathlessly. "You might make the junior college C-team yet."

"I'd say our young Timothy did quite well," added Ducky from behind the bench. "I can't remember that last time we led this game going into the third period."

"Thanks, Ducky," McGee said with a smile. Grabbing a cup of water, he downed it in a single gulp. "I wish Kate was here, though" he said wistfully.

"I still disagree with Caitlin's assertion that she's too petite to effectively play basketball," said Ducky, "but I do wish she'd been able to come and watch the team."

"Kate'll be here if she can, Duck," said Gibbs, grabbing a towel from his gym back and wiping his face free of sweat. "Helping out Carlson's team makes sense. We need to get those guns off the street." Nevertheless, Gibbs couldn't get rid of the dark feeling that had been nagging at him during the game.

His blue eyes quickly searched the stands for the missing member of his team, but still there was no sign of her. His gaze instead met that of the Director who gave Gibbs a nod of approval for his efforts. Gibbs then watched as the man pulled his cell phone from his pocket and answered a call. Surprising, since Gibbs himself had heard the Director order his assistant that, barring an imminent attack against the United States, he was not to be disturbed until after the game was over. The nagging feeling in the pit of Gibbs' stomach grew.

"So what's our plan for the second half, boss?" McGee asked.

"The plan hasn't changed from practice, McGee," Gibbs answered automatically, his eyes never leaving the image of the Director whose face had grown grave during the phone call. The Director rose suddenly and made his way for the exit. As Gibbs followed the man's progress out of the gym, he reached into his gym bag and grabbed his own cell phone, switching it on even as it started to ring. "Gibbs," he said. Distantly, he noticed that other senior agents in the stands were answering their cell phones as well – not a good sign.

"Boss?"

"Jethro?" asked DiNozzo and Ducky simultaneously, picking up on the change in his demeanor.

Gibbs held up a hand to stop them from further conversation, then he plugged his open ear with a finger to better block the noise of the crowd as he listened to the caller; his face grew taught with anger at the message that was imparted.

"Where? When?" he demanded. Continuing to listen, Gibbs turned his back on the worried looks being given him by his colleagues. He ended the conversation with a quick "We'll be there in twenty," and then flagged down the referee and spoke urgently in his ear before returning to the bench. The ref hurried to the opposite bench to explain the situation to the other team.

"Game over. Grab your gear," he ordered his team. Tugging on his warm-up jacket, Gibbs then snagged his bag. "DiNozzo, get the car. We're heading to Arlington. Carlson's team was ambushed. We'll need you too, Ducky," he added. It was all he need say to indicate that at least some of the team had not survived the attack.

"Oh, my God! Kate?" asked Abby, her voice worried.

Gibbs spared a quick glance at his young friend, her face now pale from more than just her "Goth" makeup. He answered her question with a silence that their years of friendship allowed her to understand – there was no word of Kate's fate.

"Mr. Palmer and I will meet you there as soon as we can," Ducky said as he climbed down from the stands. Jimmy Palmer had already sprinted toward the locker room as had the rest of the team the moment Gibbs' gave the order.

An eerie silence had fallen over the crowd gathered to watch the game. News of this kind always spread quickly, and a thousand pairs of eyes followed the NCIS Major Crimes Response Team as they headed out. How many newly fallen agents there would be no one knew. The death of an agent in the line of duty was always crushing, but as Gibbs jogged off the floor, his heart clenched to think that this time it might be Kate.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the comments so far. More are always appreciated!

Again, these characters aren't mine. I am only using them for entertainment purposes.

Out of the Dark – Chapter Three

Gibbs jumped from the open door of the sedan almost before the car had come to a complete stop; DiNozzo, riding shotgun, was the one who ultimately made sure the gear was _firmly_ in park before joining his boss and McGee at the entrance to the now bustling warehouse. Gibbs recognized the agents in charge of two other teams; Director Morrow's car was just pulling up with Ducky's medical examiner's truck right behind it as he slipped underneath the crime scene tape that blocked the doorway.

His blue eyes, now hard with anger and worry, took in the scene.

"So much blood," whispered McGee from behind him.

"Ya think, McGee?" The subdued tone of Gibbs' admonition took away most of the sting.

The bodies of Pike and Salaz lay where they fell, eyes open, each staring sightlessly into eternity. Weapons still clutched in their dead hands, it was clear that they'd gone out fighting. NCIS agents already on scene took photos and sketched the layout, anything they could do to process the area while staying well clear of the bodies until they could be examined by the M.E.

"What about Kate?" demanded Gibbs of the Director who now stood next to him.

"Agents Todd and Carlson were critical when they were airlifted to Bethesda," said Morrow. "They're each in surgery, but there's no more information than that, I'm afraid."

Gibbs' eyes followed Ducky as he and Palmer ducked under the tape and began examining Salaz. "What do you see, Duck?"

With Palmer's assistance, Ducky rolled Salaz this way and that so he could examine the numerous wounds. "They shot her in the back, Jethro," he said, disgust clear in his tone. "But this was likely the shot that killed her." Ducky pointed at the bullet hole that pieced the right side of the woman's neck. "The amount of blood on and around the body as well as the pattern of the blood spray would seem to indicate that this bullet nicked the carotid artery. I'll know more once I complete the autopsy."

Pike's cause of death was, unfortunately, a bit easier to determine – two bullets had struck him in the forehead and another had sheared off half of his jaw.

"Two dead," Gibbs muttered under his breath, hoping that they wouldn't soon add two more.

"Three, actually, Jethro," Ducky rose from Pike's body. "Agent Salaz was pregnant, if you'll remember," he said sadly.

"She was slated to start her desk assignment in a few weeks – after Thanksgiving," Morrow confirmed.

"Boss!" McGee's voice summoned Gibbs deeper into the warehouse where he stood next to a lonely stack of bullet-riddled pallets against the wall. His gaze was trained on the floor and a large pool of congealing blood.

Kate's blood-smeared Sig lay abandoned on the ground, and her gear was scattered wildly about. Closer to the wall, in a smaller pool of blood, her cell phone lay open; its display still glowing faintly in the dim light. Even from a distance, Gibbs could see a bloody fingerprint on the nine key – Kate's speed dial number for NCIS Headquarters.

"_Kate_ made the call?" Gibbs spun around to face the Director_. "_How long did they lay here?" he demanded, pointing to the bodies of the dead agents.

Morrow clenched his jaw. There was no denying that mistakes had been made. When Carlson's team missed their scheduled check in, the appropriate protocol had not been followed. Heads were sure to roll …

"HOW LONG?!" Gibbs' roar echoed through the cavernous maw.

"At least 90 minutes," Morrow admitted, meeting Gibbs' intense gaze.

McGee closed his eyes as if in physical pain at the news. DiNozzo turned away, his jaw tight; Ducky removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

Gibbs continued to stare down the Director until the older man finally broke the contact. Gibbs then turned and knelt before the pool of blood that had spilled from Kate's body; he studied his scarlet reflection in its mirror-like surface while he tried to regain his composure.

"Go get cleaned up and go to the hospital, Gibbs," said Morrow. "Cutshall, Giller, and their teams will work the evidence here."

"We're not giving up the case," said Gibbs his eyes not leaving his reflection.

"You're too close to it, Agent Gibbs. It will go to Giller's …"

"You really think I give a damn who _you_ think it should go to?" seethed Gibbs, rising to confront Morrow directly. "I said we're _not_ giving up the case, _sir_."

"Jethro …" Ducky cautioned, gripping his friend's shoulder.

"You're out of line Agent Gibbs …" barked Morrow.

"Director," interrupted McGee, stepping between the two angry men in a move that stunned even him, "meaning no disrespect to you, Agents Cutshall, Giller, or their teams, but you need the best you have running this case. We've lost two good people today," McGee swallowed hard to clear his throat for his next words and the images they evoked in his mind, "and we may lose two more. We're probably too close to the case, but if you want to get the dirt bags that did this to our people, you need Agent Gibbs, and I think you know that, sir."

Morrow looked from Gibbs to McGee and back again, trying to tamp down his own anger over the whole situation. However, he couldn't ignore the truth of McGee's words. "Gibbs, take your team to the hospital. See to your own …"

"Director …" Gibbs protested.

"See to your own _for now_," Morrow emphasized. "Cutshall and Giller will work the scene here and bag and tag the evidence, but the case is yours. We'll post guards until you decide to release the scene." Gibbs nodded in agreement, unwilling to voice a 'thank you' given the circumstances, and the Director left to inform Agent Giller of the plans.

Gibbs turned to his medical examiner. "Ducky …"

"I'll see to them, Jethro," Ducky nodded. "I'll meet you at the hospital when I'm done with the autopsies. Let me know once you know the extent of Caitlin's injuries, please."

"I will." Gibbs turned on his heel and walked across the warehouse to the taped-off doorway.

"Well done, Timothy," Ducky told McGee once Gibbs was out of earshot.

"Yeah, quick thinkin' for once, Probie," agreed DiNozzo.

McGee blew out the breath he had been holding. "Well, I figured the Director would either agree with me or put me on the first bus back to Norfolk." He shrugged his shoulders. "The Boss needs to be on this case. It was worth the risk."

"DiNozzo! McGee!" Gibbs called out to the two men, pointing at the car behind him. "You two coming or do you need an engraved invitation?"

"On our way, Gibbs!" DiNozzo replied as he and McGee raced to the car.

As the men reached the car, Gibbs paused, hooking an arm over the open driver's side door. "McGee," he said.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"_Never_ interrupt a conversation between me and the Director. Do that again, and _I'll_ be the one to put you on that bus back to Norfolk."

"Right, Boss," he stuttered, amazed that Gibbs had apparently heard his comment to Ducky. "Won't happen again." McGee turned to DiNozzo as Gibbs got behind the driver's seat. "How does he _do_ that?"

"That's a phenomenon in this life best left a mystery, Probie," DiNozzo muttered before joining Gibbs in the car. McGee shook his head in amazement.

"McGee!" barked Gibbs from inside the car.

McGee jumped. "Ready, boss," he said and climbed into the back seat.

Moments later the sedan was speeding through the streets of Arlington on its way to Bethesda and the critically injured Caitlin Todd. It was a quiet ride – each man alone with his own thoughts and fears of what would await them when they arrived.


	4. Chapter 4

My disclaimers have not changed from chapter one of this story.

Thank you for the continued feedback. It's always a pleasure to know that people are reading (and even enjoying) what I am writing. If you _really_ like it, you might even recommend it to your friends. I certainly wouldn't mind.

There will be some rougher language toward the end of this chapter. Also, for those of you who are wondering when the Kibbs will begin, never fear. I'll get there. I just like to tell a complete story whenever I can. My apologies if anything is overtly non-canon. I'm still catching up on the Caitlin Todd seasons.

It may be a few days before I can update again. My Thanksgiving Break is almost over, and the end of the semester is nigh which means tons to papers to grade before Winter Break arrives in mid-December. I'll do what I can, though. I'm currently dreaming this story, so even when I can't be at the keyboard writing, my brain is still working out what comes next.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Out of the Dark – Chapter Four

* * *

Abby was in the hallway outside the emergency room's surgical waiting area when they arrived. Her Energizer bunny-like pacing told Gibbs that she was both worried and running low on caffeine. The woman ran to them as the trio approached, and Gibbs wrapped her in a one-armed hug.

"What do we know, Abs?" he asked as they walked. He could feel the tension ease a bit from her body as he drew her close.

"A whole bunch of _nothing_," she said with a frustrated bounce. "One of the nurses came in about 20 minutes ago to say that it would be awhile before she'd know anything to tell us. How silly is that? Why not just say nothing at all – which I guess is kinda what she did, but it still doesn't make any sense whatsoever to tell us that she's not going to have anything to tell us. Oh, and speaking of telling, I wanted to tell _you_ that I brought clean clothes for you all to change into." Abby took a dramatic sniff of the air around Gibbs' body. "I thought it might be a good idea considering you're still a little ripe from the ball game."

"Abby," Gibbs cautioned, and the rambling stopped.

"Sorry, Gibbs." Abby took a deep breath and turned to look through the waiting room windows at the four women huddled close together on a sofa near a television set no one was watching. "Agent Carlson's wife and daughters are here," she said sadly. "We don't know anything about his condition, either."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he processed the information, and with a quick nod he handed her to DiNozzo who took the forensic scientist under his arm. He was reaching for the handle of the waiting room door when McGee spoke.

"Has Kate's family been contacted?" Tim realized that he had completely forgotten about her parents in Indiana.

"No," said Gibbs.

"Shouldn't _someone_ notify her next of kin?" McGee asked, surprised.

"They did, McGee," answered Gibbs over his shoulder before opening the door and entering the crowded room.

"But …" Tim was at a loss at the apparent contradiction in Gibbs' words.

"Kate doesn't want her family to be notified if she is hurt in the line of duty," Abby informed McGee as the glass door closed behind Gibbs. "I know. I know." She shook her hands rapidly in response to Tim's obvious confusion. "But it's a rule she started back when she was still with the Secret Service. Look, it's complicated, but it's written into her living will."

"But Gibbs said her next of kin …"

"Next of kin was informed the minute Gibbs got the call that Kate had been shot, Probie," Tony responded, tightening his arm around Abby's shoulders.

When Gibbs stepped into waiting room he was immediately greeted by three other NCIS agents – the law enforcement tradition of keeping vigil while awaiting news of fallen colleagues remained unbroken. He quickly shook each of their hands and listened to their words of support and solace. He noticed a few tears in Tori Kingston's eyes and remembered that Kate had once mentioned to him that they had known each other in college and had become close again with Kate's arrival at NCIS.

"Agent Gibbs?"

At the sound of his name, Jethro turned to face Agent Anna Simons – the fourth member of Carlson's team who Kate had replaced that morning.

"Simons," he acknowledged. Even after all of his years as an agent, he was still at a loss for words in these situations. What did one say to a person whose entire team had been gunned down? Simons looked terrible. Her eyes were red and tired, her dark hair was pulled into a haphazard ponytail, and it looked as though she had slept in her jeans and sweatshirt. Then Gibbs remembered that the woman's mother was in critical condition at Georgetown University Hospital – she probably had slept in her clothes.

"I came as soon as I heard," Anna said, her dark eyes downcast. "Kate shouldn't have been there. I should have gone with my team."

"It wouldn't have changed anything, Simons. You were where you needed to be," Gibbs replied. "And right now you're the best source of information we have about the case your team was working before they were ambushed. I'll want you to brief my people on everything you have."

"Yes, sir." Simons then pulled a flash drive from the pocket of her jeans and handed it to him. "I thought you might want this. It contains my notes on the case. I'll go to the Yard now and pull together everything that Carlson, Pike, and Caroline had as well."

"You do that," Gibbs agreed knowing that having a job to focus on was just what a person needed during a time of crisis. With a brisk nod at the casual order, Simons left the waiting room.

"Jethro?" Gibbs turned now to the weary voice that came from the couch – Jenna Carlson. He had known Jim and his wife for twelve years, had attended the Christening of their youngest daughter, and had enjoyed more summertime barbeques in their backyard than he could count.

He sat down on the coffee table in front of her and took her cold hands in his. Her normally youthful face was both drained and angry – a combination he could identify with. "Jenna," he began.

"You'll get them, Jethro," the tiny brunette insisted, her words more fact that opinion. "You'll find the bastards who shot Jamie, Leon, Caro, and your Kate."

"We'll get them." The promise in his voice seemed to soothe her, and she leaned back into the comforting embrace of her eldest daughter as Gibbs explained to them where the investigation would go from here.

**

"I hate this," Tony said as he watched the distressing the scene on the other side of the glass.

"Hate what?" asked McGee, turning to his partner.

"This!" DiNozzo gestured at the waiting room, the three of them, the grouping of people from other agencies that had started to gather in the hallway to await the news whatever it might be. "This is ridiculous. We shouldn't even _be_ here. We should be eatin' pizza and drinking beer with Kate after kicking the FBI's ass all over the damn court. We should be doing _something_, not just hanging around Sterile-ville waiting – " DiNozzo stopped his rant and sighed. "Sorry. I just hate feeling …"

"Impotent," finished McGee with a nod of understanding.

"Useless, McGee. I was going to say _useless_," insisted Tony, slapping McGee on the head. "Impotent isn't even in a DiNozzo's vocabulary. Well, except for maybe Uncle Vinnie. I heard he never fully recovered from that incident with my Aunt Loraine's golf club."

Rubbing the back of his head, Tim rolled his eyes at Tony's assertion and was about to clarify the multiple instances in which the word "impotent" could be appropriately used when the pair of heavy automatic doors marked "Surgery" opened at the far end of the waiting room and a man and woman, each wearing surgical scrubs, walked through. After a quick conversation with the hospital volunteer at her desk, the pair approached Gibbs and Jenna Carlson who rose to meet the doctors.

"Uh, guys," remarked Abby, drawing her friends' attention back to the tableau in front of them.

DiNozzo, McGee, and Abby watched from behind the glass as the doctors began speaking. The woman pulled off the surgical cap she wore on her head as she spoke. Abby noticed that her short, blonde hair was damp around the edges. Without the sound, it seemed as if the doctors spoke in pantomime – their gestures conveyed the meaning of the words the three could not hear, but in this case, their gestures spoke more loudly than any words could. Jenna Carlson's strangled cry of denial penetrated the glass, confirming their interpretation, and they watched as her knees buckled. Gibbs caught her before she fell to the ground and guided her back onto the sofa, into the waiting arms of her stunned and crying daughters.

Abby stifled a cry, and Tony pulled her closer to him. Beyond the glass he watched as Gibbs spoke rapidly with both doctors. They shook their heads in apology, and Gibbs then gave each of them his business card, pointing emphatically at the piece of cardstock. Kissing Jenna Carlson briefly on the head, then hugging each of Jim's daughters, he pulled Agent Kingston aside and gave her some explicit instructions before leaving the room of death and grief behind him.

"No more sitting around," Gibbs growled once he was in the hallway. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed the flash drive to McGee. "Get back to the Yard. Double check every piece of information on that thing against the official documentation. DiNozzo – "

"Yeah, boss."

"You and I will canvas every business, restaurant, and cardboard box within half a mile of that warehouse. I don't care if it's Saturday, someone has to have seen something," Gibbs ordered.

"Gotcha, boss," DiNozzo said and headed to the exit to get the car, but Gibbs stopped him.

"And get cleaned up before we go, would you, DiNozzo," he insisted. "Abby's right. You might find people are more willing to talk if they're not running from the smell."

"Appreciate it, boss."

"Gibbs?" Two of the other agents stepped out of the waiting room. "Kingston's staying behind to update you on Todd, but how can we help?" one of them asked.

"Balboa, you drive McGee back to the yard and help him check through the stuff on that drive. Brons, get Abby back to her lab." Gibbs turned to her. "Evidence from this morning will be coming in soon; process it as quickly as you can, but I'll also need you to go over the evidence from the original raid on that warehouse last week. If Jim thought they were missing something, they were." Abby nodded her understanding, but Gibbs grabbed her arm before she and Brons could leave. "Abs, I know how you feel about assistants, but …"

"If it will help me process the evidence more quickly so we can get these guys, I can suffer through it. Don't worry about me, Gibbs," she said with a smile, trying to diffuse some of the tension he was obviously under.

"I'll always worry about you, Abs," Gibbs said, a flicker of affection crossing his stern face. Then he addressed the group as a whole. "No one, I mean _no one_ associated with this case leaves the Yard alone. Pull in what resources you need, but these bastards have already killed three of our people. They won't hesitate to kill again if they think we're getting close."

Abby reached into the waiting room and grabbed a large bag that had been sitting on the chair nearest the door. "The volunteer at the front desk said that she'd show you where you can shower and change," said Abby, handing the bag to Gibbs before following Brons to the emergency room exit.

Gibbs slung the bag over his shoulder and headed to the main desk. "C'mon," he told his two colleagues, "We've got a promise to keep."

**

The abandoned apartment a few miles from Bethesda had taken on the chill of the November air. Pulling on a pair of black leather gloves, Cephas looked down at the trembling body curled up on the bed in the hazy room. Pathetic was the only way to describe the form that lay upon it.

"You've gotta get me to the hospital," Huitt pleaded, his hands gripping his belly. Blood seeped from between his fingers and stained the sheets below. "I'm dyin' here!"

"Yes. I believe you are." The wooden chair creaked as Cephas sat down, eyes hard. "Just as I believe that it was _you_ who left two NCIS agents alive at that warehouse. That's what the news reports are saying. You were sloppy, got shot, and we had to leave before checking to make sure that they were all _dead_."

"I'm sorr – "

Cephas scoffed and got up from the chair to lean across the bed. "Sorry is of little consolation to me now." Reaching out a hand, Cephas pressed hard against Huitt's stomach, digging a leather-covered finger inside the wound.

Huitt screamed aloud as much from the pain as from the knowledge that there was no one around to hear him. A fact that was confirmed by Cephas' emotionless stare. "Come on! You owe me!" Huitt pleaded. "I saved your life in Kabul. We were in the Corps together!"

"Never leave a man behind?" Cephas asked, mimicking the motto before straightening and wiping the leather clean with a white cloth pulled from a pocket of the long leather coat draped across the table in the corner. Cephas replaced the cloth and turned to face Huitt.

"Exactly!" Huitt's voice was no less panicked, but he sensed a spot of hope. Cephas had always been a twisted fuck, but the Corps ran deep.

"There's something you should know, then," Cephas intoned.

"What's that?" demanded Huitt with a groan.

"I never really fit in with the Corps," Cephas answered with a grin, raising a gun and pointing it at Huitt. Before the man could scream again, Cephas pulled the trigger and two bullets silently exploded inside Huitt's skull.

Pulling a cell phone from the coat, Cephas dialed a number and waited. "The problem child has been taken care of," Cephas said when the call was answered. "Make sure you put the body someplace where the Feds are sure to find it."

Pulling on the long coat and stowing the cell phone inside, Cephas opened the door to the apartment before turning to address Huitt's body.

"Semper Fi, Marine."

The door shut with a quiet click and only the mice were left behind to keep vigil on the cooling corpse inside.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimers have not changed since chapter one.

Thank you all for the feedback. I am glad that I have caught the attention of those who typically don't go for this genre of NCIS story. That means a lot, and I hope that you will continue reading.

This will be the last chapter for a few days as it's back to the grind for me tomorrow, but I'll do what I can in the coming days.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this latest installment.

* * *

Out of the Dark – Chapter Five

* * *

A whole bunch of nothing, isn't that what Abby had said earlier? Looking back, it was as if the scientist's words had been a portent of things to come.

A whole bunch of nothing was exactly what Gibbs and DiNozzo had uncovered in their canvas of the Arlington warehouse district. A few vague descriptions of a black van – why did it _always_ have to be a black van – speeding away from the general location of the crime. A few hazy recollections of gun shots at about the time of the ambush.

You mean they weren't fireworks?

Fireworks?

At ten in the morning?

In November?

It was late by the time Gibbs and DiNozzo returned to the Navy Yard. Abby's analysis of the forensic evidence was still pending. Strangely, that was all she would tell him. No rambling tangents, no protestations of gratitude over the CafPow he had handed her. Just a quick, "Thank you, Gibbs. You'll know when I have something, Gibbs," and she returned to her keyboard, her fingers a blur as she entered instructions for whatever it was she was doing. Two of her conscripted "assistants" were sacked out in the corner – oblivious to the beat of _Android Lust_ that blared from the overhead speakers. Little wonder Abby didn't care for assistants. They just couldn't keep up.

McGee's preliminary examination of Simons' flash drive had provided virtually no information of value he had told Gibbs when he called for an update. So far everything in Simons' notes gelled with the official reports. "But I'm triple-checking it now, Boss," McGee had insisted. The data was extensive and therefore time-consuming to verify. Tim had been about to start in on Carlson's notes when he apparently "Qwertyed" at his desk. DiNozzo explained this to Gibbs to mean that McGee had fallen asleep _on_ his keyboard.

Sure enough, the tell-tale evidence was imprinted on McGee's forehead when Gibbs woke him up to send both he and DiNozzo to Bolling Air Force Base. Knowing that they would be working late and starting early, The Director had arranged for temporary housing for the team across the Anacostia. Gibbs had ordered McGee and DiNozzo to bed, and returned an hour later from his briefing with Morrow to find both agents passed out at their desks. Grabbing his coat, Gibbs left them where they were.

A whole bunch of nothing.

Well, maybe not _nothing_.

"Agent Todd's a very lucky woman, all things considered," said Captain Emily Pagnozzi, the Navy trauma surgeon who had spent several hours patching up the wounded agent. "The GSWs to her leg and shoulder were through and through and only damaged the soft tissue. She did suffer an acute tear to the right rotator cuff, though. She'll probably need another surgery in a few weeks to repair that. She also took three other bullets to her chest, but those were stopped by her vest – good thing she was wearing one. Didn't stop them from cracking two ribs, though …"

"What happened to her eyes?" Gibbs interrupted, his gaze never leaving the unconscious from of his colleague as he mentally crosschecked the doctor's report with what he saw with his own eyes. A nurse bustled around Kate, checking her blood pressure and other vitals. A heavy, white bandage encircled Kate's head, covering her eyes. He could see bruising and a series of nasty looking cuts beneath the edges of the bandage.

"Agent Todd suffered severe abrasions and some lacerations to both corneas," Pagnozzi admitted. "Our ophthalmic surgeon, Dr. Wong, removed several slivers of wood and some minor metallic fragments imbedded in her eyes. It looks like something exploded in her face."

The bullet-splintered pallets where Kate fell would probably account for that, Gibbs decided.

"We saved those along with the clothes Agent Todd was wearing when she came in," the doctor added. "Your people took them into evidence when they collected Agent Carlson's body."

At the mention of his friend's name, Jenna Carlson's anguished face popped into Gibbs's mind. It had been that way most of the day, a mental focal point for his investigation, but even now that image faded in light of the trauma that Kate had experienced, and as Gibbs watched the rhythmic fall of her chest he felt a new emotion, one he couldn't quite identify, rise in his chest. It was part anger, part responsibility, but there was more to it than just that.

"Her wounds will heal soon enough," Pagnozzi continued, oblivious to Gibbs' introspection. "The ribs are going to cause her quite a bit of discomfort for awhile, as will that shoulder, but we can help her manage the pain with proper medica …"

"Will she be able to _see_, Doctor," Gibbs asked pointedly, bringing his focus back to what Pagnozzi was telling him. He'd figure the rest of it out later.

"She won't be blind, if that's what you're asking, Agent Gibbs," said the surgeon, guiding him to the Nurse's Station where she returned the medical chart, "but the truth of it is that it's too early to tell whether or not she'll be able to see well enough to return to field duty. Her eyes are currently protected by plastic shields in addition to the bandages. Eye rest will be key in the coming days. We're giving her a broad-spectrum antibiotic, but she'll be receiving antibiotic drops as well to guard against infection. Dr. Wong will examine her daily until she goes home, but until then, we wait to see what happens."

Gibbs turned back to look through the partially opened glass door of Kate's room, silent as he processed the doctor's words. 'Wait and see' was a process he never handled well, but it was one he was having to experience at every turn with this case. The strange sensation again assaulted him.

He didn't want to _wait_. He wanted to see Kate leaning against her desk, mocking DiNozzo as he recounted his latest attempt at channeling James Bond. He wanted to hear her voice as she reported the latest detail of the current case. He wanted –

"I've arranged for a 24-hour guard on Agent Todd," Gibbs informed the physician, indicating the two NCIS agents stationed down the hallway. "No one is to have any contact with her until they have been vetted through my agency. That means doctors, nurses, orderlies … no visitors unless you have a verbal okay from _me_."

"We're unfortunately all too familiar with the procedure here, Agent Gibbs," Pagnozzi acknowledged. "We see Agent Todd as one of our own. We'll make sure nothing happens to her while she's under our care." She watched as Gibbs rubbed his tired eyes. "It's late, Agent Gibbs. There's nothing else that you can do here tonight, perhaps if you …"

"I'll be staying."

Pagnozzi had seen that one coming, but she had to try. "Let the nurses know if you need anything," she said. "Although it's difficult to get any rest in a hospital, let alone the ICU, I expect Agent Todd will have a comfortable night. It's unlikely she'll awaken before morning.

"I'll see you then, Doctor," Gibbs said.

With a nod, the doctor turned to consult with one of the nurses.

"Oh, and Doc?"

Pagnozzi turned back, questioningly.

"Thank you."

She smiled. All too often people caught up in the trauma of a critically injured loved one forgot the power of those two simple words. "You're welcome, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs hovered in the doorway until the nurse finished his paperwork, then, with a final check of the IV in Kate's arm, exited the room. The room was dim, only a single light shone above the sink in the alcove, but he glow of the Washington skyline dominated the view out the window behind Kate's bed.

The rhythmic tone of the heart monitor had been turned down so that its beeping was only vaguely discernable in the background. Quietly, though there was little chance of disturbing her tonight, Gibbs walked to the side of Kate's hospital bed. Both cheeks were heavily bruised and speckled with tiny cuts, her face was pale and drawn, and a plastic oxygen tube was looped over her ears and under her nose.

He was grateful that she wasn't on a ventilator.

He wanted – there it was again – to see her dark eyes stare up at him with that challenging look they so often held, but they were carefully protected behind the white bandages that stood out in stark contrast to her dark hair. Her right arm was bound tightly to her chest to prevent excess movement that might cause her shoulder wound to reopen, and beneath the blanket he could make out the bulk of the bandages that covered her otherwise slim thigh. Her petite form was all but dwarfed by the large bed, and Gibbs was troubled at how lost she appeared.

"I never should have let you go without us," he said.

Without … me.

As he studied Kate's face, a lone patch of unmarred flesh near her ear drew him. Reaching out, Gibbs started to touch her cheek; he hesitated then reached out again. At the last moment he pulled back, clenching his fingers tightly into a fist that he dropped to his side.

"I won't let you down again, Kate," he whispered, hoping that some part of her heard him. But even as he said the words, he came to the understanding that they were as much for him as for her. With a decisive nod, Gibbs pulled the reclining chair closer to her bed, sat down, pulled the lever to extend the footrest, and propped up his legs.

As the night passed, Gibbs often fiddled with the sheet near Kate's hand, occasionally grasping her fingers in his and rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb before he realized what he was doing. He would then run the offending hand through his hair and return it to the arm rest.

It was never long before the process started again.

The medical staff worked easily around him as they made their frequent checks on their patient that night. Gibbs followed every movement they made but asked no questions, figuring they would tell him if there had been any significant change in Kate's condition. When they left, he would turn back to the view beyond the window, alone with his thoughts of Kate and of the case at hand.

When shift-change arrived just before dawn, the night nurse noticed with a quiet smile that the imposing silver-haired agent had finally fallen asleep; his hand finally at rest curled as it was around Kate's.

* * *


End file.
